Schemes and Dreams
by UnstableDread
Summary: When a new villain emerges, how will Gotham cope? And Harley finally gets out of Arkham again. Can Batman protect her from the temptations of her past?
1. Welcome to Arkham

**Yeah, so, I don't own Batman or any of it's characters. Asides from Tex and Emily, I own no one from this story. Lacy owns herself. This was originally written on paper, but I thought more people would enjoy it all typed up and pretty. Reviews are appreciated!**

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Arkham Asylum. It wasn't so bad, if you didn't count the food, the treatment, and of course, the psychopaths. Joker, Riddler, and Harley Quinn all called the place home, or at least a home away from home. For Anne, it was hardly considered home, but she enjoyed it well enough. Quite the juicy place to crash at for a bit. Anne had arrived earlier that week, and sent straight to Intensive Treatment. They thought she was crazy, maybe it had been the chainsaw. Anne did have a fascination with them. Her doctors said that wasn't a good thing. Anne could never quite understand why. She was still getting used to her new accommodations, the restraints, all the damn rules, and the treatment. All a horrible combination that put a dent in her joy of the structure, or rather, it's inhabitants. Her breath fogged the shatter proofed glass, and she ran a hand through her dark brown hair, tracing intricate lines into the moisture with a delicate finger tip and glaring intensely at her reflection. Round, soft face and muddy eyes. She didn't look crazy. She may even have looked innocent. Her youth was an obvious feature. At only fifteen, her actions had truly shocked the city. It had all happened at that family reunion. Anne remembered a her whirling chainsaw, dancing in her hands, crimson spray staining the walls. And the screams. They had nourished her sick pleasure in such a way that one could only describe it as insane. It had been a massacre.

She had sat hours in court that night, amusing herself with tedious thoughts and petty conversations with herself. They had gotten all the evidence needed to convict of the terrible crime, even if it hadn't been obvious enough. The chainsaw, the finger prints, and her blood soaked clothes. Even Batman had shown himself at one point during the night of the trial, listening in quietly from a window. Anne had never actually seen him, but the guards whispered about it. Had it really been so terrible? She had only been having a bit of fun. She even got a nickname for herself, like the heroes. Tex! The court hadn't liked it all that much, but why should she care what they thought? At the end of it all, she had been sent to Arkham. They had said she was sick, that the doctors there would help her. Anne had never really liked doctors very much. They didn't help, they hurt, with needles and other things. If she ruled the country, there would never be doctors. Maybe that wasn't such a good thing, but it worked for her. Besides, she wasn't sick.

Anne chuckled lightly. No way. She felt just fine. And she wasn't crazy either, no matter what anyone said. Anne's thoughts swarmed. She didn't know how long she had been standing there. When her vision came back into focus, Anne caught the Riddler glaring at her from his cot. No doubt he had some grand plan in mind. She smiled at him, giving a slight wave. The hall was filled with chatter, but the scheming villain didn't seem interested in talking. He promptly ignored the gesture, leaning back to snatch a book from from a hard, wooden chair beside the lumpy cot. Boredom wormed into her head, and Anne sighed. Unlike the rest of the villains, she had no addiction. No reason to plan. No motivation to escape. All she had were delusions. She looked at Riddler again, reading his book. Where did he get his inspiration from? Duh. Riddles, of course. Maybe she should try that? Anne tried to think one up, surely it couldn't be that hard? Too hard for her, it seemed. After a few minutes, she gave up and plopped down on the floor beside the glass, lazily resting her head against the wall. Suddenly, the large, heavy doors at the end of the dark hall creaked open before noisily slamming shut, it's echo filling the entire building.

She pushed herself to her feet to once more press against the window in curiosity. Who were the guards bringing in now? The chatter suddenly died. Cell by cell. A hot tension rose, the eerie silence setting her skin crawling. It wasn't normal. Usually when a new patient arrived, they were jeered and laughed at. Anne remembered, she'd been teased too. So why the sudden quiet? It was almost like a warning to some, who quickly scooted to the back of their cells. Only a few patients in the back dared a few hushed words. Anne pressed against the glass, straining to see. She managed to catch the shadows of the group before they reached her. A cackle, shrill and wicked, rose into the air, sending unease through many of the asylum's inhabitants. The group walked past her cell, two armed guards in the front, and then came the clown. His pale face and bright lips took her by surprise, and his wicked eyes trained on her with a predatory gleam. "Ooh! A noob! Welcome to Arkham!" He greeted, his tone delighted, but Anne picked out the danger there with ease. She was even about to reply when a cold, menacing darkness fell around her. Anne gasped as Joker let loose another shrill laugh. She took a step back, if only to get a better look at the devil before her.

White, dagger sharp slits raked across her flesh, sending cold shivers down her spine at it's menacing touch. Anne had never seen a gaze quite so terrifying, as if it could tear out her very soul. She shrank back, both fascinated and fearful of the man that loomed above her. At the sight of Anne, he paused, only for a moment as if curious. He let her take in his figure, powerful and foreboding. His cloak was a magnificent obsidian, ragged and bat-like, and, enthralled, Anne couldn't look way. An odd feeling shook her frame, planting an obsession within her mind. He clearly had power. So much power. And the darkness of his form was strangely intoxicating. Batman didn't let his gaze soften for a moment as he glared, his lips forming a firm line. Now that he had allowed the girl a brief time absorb his features, he turned away, his grip on the clown painfully tight, and continued on his way down the hall. He only stopped again at Joker's cell. "Ahh, home sweet home." The clown chuckled as he was roughly shoved inside. Anne grinned cruelly. It was a welcome sight when people got pushed around, after having to deal with it most of her life.

Anne knew Batman would have to pass by again on the way out. She pressed her sweaty palms to the glass in expectation. A thrill ran through her as he finally walked by in silence. Anne gave a giggle at the unexpected feeling. "Wow! I never thought I'd ever get to see Batman before! You're even scarier in person!" She exclaimed, leaping excitedly from foot to foot. He wasn't so scary just walking past, though Anne really was hoping he'd stop, to grace her with his blood chilling gaze again. Was it possible to be addicted to fear? Was it normal? Batman gave her emotions she'd never felt before. He gave her something special. A drug. It was so unexplainable, yet so strong. Batman completely ignored her. He walked right passed without a word. Not even a fear inducing dose of bat-glare. And Anne wanted it, because oddly, the terrifying touch of his gaze sent an overwhelming sense of pleasure through her mind. Anne didn't want him to leave. She thought desperately for a moment, then decided to go with the usual parent insulting. "Hey, wait! You haven't heard the best part! About your mother getting raped by Killer Croc. But that's okay, your daddy was cheating on her with Two-Face, anyway." Anne announced.

"Naughty, naughty!" Joker's voice rang out. Batman stopped, mid step, and many of the inmates recoiled in fear. Even Scarecrow seemed disturbed as Batman responded to her stabbing words. A few of the more brazen rogues leapt excitedly to the glass, peering out with crazed grins. Batman turned slowly, his fists tightened in rage. Batman's scowl had been replaced by an angry, teeth grinding snarl. He visibly darkened in composure, slipping forward, black cape unfurled dramatically, tattered and sinister, as if stitched from strings of midnight. In nail biting silence and amazing self control, he approached. Riddler huddled close to the back wall, Anne was tempted to do the same. She hadn't expected such a strong reaction. Anne couldn't hide her triumphant grin as he glared fiercely, as if his very glare could melt the flesh from her bones. It certainly felt like it. He was a nightmare, towering and dreadful. Batman stopped close to the glass, drawing himself up to full height, looking down at her daring form to challenge her brazen words. Anne tried desperately to find her voice, but all she could manage as an answer was a pathetic, insufficient squeak. She took a few step back under his terrible gaze.

Unlike last time, there was no pleasure here. Only fear. It sickened her, his very gaze debilitating. Anne couldn't bring herself to look at him any longer. She bowed her head, subdued, to let him know the challenge was won. Maybe it had been to much. Maybe she had made a mistake. No. There was still that rush there, the warm friction inside her body as she gave into him. She still felt sick, but the fluttering feeling masked most of her former fear. After a few tight seconds of silence, his shadow passed by her with an grunt of approval at her submission, leaving Anne to stumble awkwardly to her cot, trying to decipher her feelings. Lust? For his body? For his touch? Did she enjoy being beneath him? No. That wasn't it. Not quite. Anne finally detected it. Ambition. Power rolled off his body in waves. His ability to freeze a heart in total fear. His authority to demand submission. Oh, how she wanted it. A taste of his power was all she needed. If only she could find some way to break him. To make him feel as she did, stuck in his suffocating shadow. Oh yes. The idea excited her greatly, and finally, she had found her motivation. She'd make Batman squirm.


	2. Mass Breakout

The end of one week only led to the beginning of a new one. Things had started to calm down since the incident, though Anne had never stopped thinking about it. She hardly ate, hardly slept, and most unusual of all, hardly socialized. Everything started as normal as any day, or at least, as normal as an asylum could be. Breakfast came to their cells. When Joker was around, the entire place was usually in some type of constant lockdown. After all the times he had managed to escape, Anne could hardly blame them, but she did anyway. Stupid Arkham. She paced around her cell with no point of destination, restless. When she closed her eyes, she could see his calculating gaze glaring back at her, spurring her on. It was late afternoon when it happened, as the sky grew dark and the sun sank below the jagged horizon. The Joker's cell exploded. Glass shattered as a shrill cackle tore through the air. It was obvious it had come from inside. People screamed, laughed, and cheered. Anne simply smiled as a single word sprung to mind. Freedom.

The clown bolted by the cells, laughing hysterically. He hit the emergency switch on the far wall, and the cells opened suddenly. More cheering. Staff and armed guards scrambled desperately for control over the fleeing, jeering inmates, but they were all terribly outnumbered. Anne sprinted with glee from her cell, shoving into the crowded hall, her ears ringing with gunfire and screams. Many of the staff were quickly overrun and killed. A few lucky ones managed to escape in some of the cells, huddling against the walls in fear. The guards were forced to fall back, or end up pinned between the wall and the deranged inmates. Their retreat inevitably opened the way out for escapees. One doctor crashed into Anne's side, pleading for her life. An inmate behind her reached out with a growl to haul her back, no doubt to end her life. Anne ignored the display and continued to push forward. Joker had obviously taken some planning time in the few days he had been in Arkham.

The flood of fleeing patients from Intensive Treatment spilled out into the courtyard so suddenly, many of the men and woman trying to squeeze out the doorway tripped and fell, causing a massive chain reaction. Of course, most picked themselves up in a matter of mere seconds, eager to reach freedom. About a dozen managed to escape into the woods before the first wave of police arrived. Their sirens were heard from about a mile, across the bridge, their lights bright in the evening darkness. Despite the snow lined concrete, it was terribly warm within the confines of the defiant group. Anne clawed her way past several protesting inmates. "Outta da way, junkies!" She spat viciously, her small size allowing her to slide through the cracks between bodies with relative ease. Not many heard her words, Anne's voice lost in the erupting chaos around her. She managed to catch sight of a sleek, black vehicle racing past the gates ahead, and immediately recognized it as the Batmobile, despite the hasty glance she was able to steal. The gap closed ahead of her, blocking the thrilling Batmobile as she was forced to dive back into throng.

At the sight, many on the front lines panicked and fled, some struggling back into the asylum, others making a race for the gates. As the inmates in front fled, the group faltered, and like a wave, dozens followed, shouting their fear. The Batman wasn't alone. The vivid colors of Robin were soon spotted after leaping up onto some man's broad shoulders. Nightwing had also made an appearance, a staff twirling fluidly within his grip. Any fool that dared approached the hostile trio were immediately targeted and fiercely attacked. Anne watched as some fool went flying back into the crowd, knocking over three others, that inevitably dragged more to the hard ground with them in desperate attempts to stop their descent. Anne unwisely chose to attack, along with several others who surged forward around her, as if they had some small chance of beating the Dark Knight and his companions. Anne had no intentions of leaping right for their throats. She had freedom on her mind, not a trip to the hospital.

She drew near, her breath billowing hot mist into the frigid air. She judged her advance perfectly, lunging for the gap between Batman and Nightwing just as the two struggled with a couple of inmates, hoping to slip past unnoticed. She would have made it, but in that brief fraction of a moment, when the Batman just happened to glance up, their eyes locked, and the ice within his gaze froze her joints solid. "Anne." Batman growled, throwing the men away to launch himself forward. Anne gasped, leaping back, but his hand still caught the scruff of her shirt, dragging her back. If it hadn't been for the man that suddenly lurched and crashed into the hero, she would have never escaped. "Anne? Please, call me Tex!" She sneered. _Crack! _Nightwing's staff connected abruptly with the side of her head, and she fell to the snow patched concrete with a moan.

Her vision swam, her head throbbing. Tex could do nothing but lay there, stunned, desperately trying to reconnect with her body. Dizziness made pulled another moan from her lips as she tried to push herself up, only to, with a sudden, savage attack of weakness, fall once more to the ground. _No! _It couldn't end like this! She had gotten so close, she could see the gates, just feet away! Tex struggled to comprehend her surroundings, vaguely aware of Nightwing's feet dancing over and around her as more inmates fell, scrambling back. The heroes began to herd those few patients left inside. Tex had to take her chance while she had it. Her fingers twitched as she established some kind of control over her own limbs, and then she crawled, her eyes on the ground. It seemed like hours, but in only seconds, her fingers curled into cold, dead grass. The victorious feeling rejuvenated her. Tex shoved herself back to her feet, leaning against the gate to steady herself. She watched as Robin lashed out at a few inmates that got a little to close.

There had to be some way out. She couldn't run, not in her current state. Tex brushed the bump on her head with her palm and groaned at the flare of pain. Then it hit her, as the bright red and blue lights disoriented her vision. The police cars. Many were unattended, and many were unlocked...with the keys still in the ignition. Tex sprinted toward the closest one, giddy as she finally had her means to freedom. The door was already open, and she slid inside with a chuckle. Was it to be so easy? So boring? Where was the thrill of that? Despite her pounding head, Tex simply couldn't allow things to end like this. "Hey Batty, off to see the wizard!" Tex sang brightly. The man turned, glaring. Knowing he would follow, Tex wasted no more time in putting the petal to the metal, squealing around and through the gates. She left the lights and sirens on for her own enjoyment, and because she had no clue how to turn them off anyway. Her gaze was still rather blurry from the hit, and Tex swerved dangerously as she sped up the road and onto the bridge that hovered over the peaceful water below until it touched Gotham's bank.

The roar of a mighty engine alerted her to Batman's presence. She'd lead him on a joyous chase through the streets! Then the car shook with a loud clang, and, looking through the mirror, Tex recognized the black cable that was now embedded into the back of the car. It grew tight, and the vehicle jerked sideways, rolling into the other lane to crash into the railing. With the window down and Tex's seat belt ignored, she sailed out like a rage doll, shattering the window with her. Blood splattered the world around her like careless ink upon a canvas, and then, darkness. The water enveloped her in a stinging embrace, her breathe swept away upon the waves as a sudden, icy numbness took her. Tex's whole body shook at the frigid liquid's touch, and, disoriented, she sank deeper and deeper. She heard the echo of a splash above, and then the tight grasp of strong arms hauling her back to the surface. When she broke free of the water, it took a moment for her to realize she could breath again, and she drank in the oxygen in great gulps.

Batman held tightly to his grapple, wrapping her in his cloak to get a better grip and prevent her from falling again. Tex unconsciously wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing tightly as she pressed her freezing body to the firm, muscled warmth of his, her teeth clashing rapidly together to send dozens of hasty clicks into the air. It only took a few seconds for the pair to reach the safety of the bridge again, and she was unceremoniously dropped to the concrete. Luckily, he had enough heart to grab her arm as her knees buckled, hauling her back up to her feet before she could fall, and then allowing her to steady herself. Tex hated the sudden cold that assailed her as soon as he had moved away, and shuffled closer. When he didn't move away, she was encouraged to continue her advance for warmth when Joker sped across toward them with a sadistic cackle. "Out of the way, Bats, I'm drivin' here!" The clown shouted, aiming his police motorcycle straight at them.

Batman shoved her away as he turned to face the insane man that aimed to ram him, and Tex took in the moment to realize it would be a good time to run. She took off across the bridge in an obvious hurry, her wet Arkham clothes clinging like useless skins, molded and thin to her body. If she didn't shed them now, they'd probably freeze or something, and it wasn't like their were worth anything in their soaking state anyway. Tex dropped her clothes, peeling them from her bare body to ditch them in the street, her feet stinging as they scraped against icy concrete and gritty snow. If she didn't find some warmth soon, she might as well just return to Arkham, or risk serious sickness and possibly death. But Arkham wasn't in her current agenda. So where else was there to hide? The Riddler. Tex had no doubt he had escaped, and happened to know from idle gossip where one of his hideouts would be, and the closest one was only about an hours walk away, at an old chapel. That was where she would go, and do her best to find something warm along the way. The Riddler, at least, was a bit more understanding then many of Gotham's other villains.


End file.
